A Vampire's Bohemian

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A Vampire's Bohemian Page 15

by Vanessa Fewings


  “I…I can’t, Anaïs.”

  She ran her fingers through my hair. “Yes, you can,” she cooed. “And, yes, you will.”

  My feet became unsteady. My limbs weakened from having her so close. She was so dangerously controlling. Anaïs’ ironclad grip guided me out of the room.

  The rest was a blur.

  Anaïs told me she’d booked us a room in the five-star Camelot Castle Hotel. Apparently I’d need somewhere to sleep off this ‘Alice in Wonderland’ elixir that Anaïs was threatening me with. We drove there in record time with her at the wheel of the Viper, the speed so dangerous I doubted we’d actually get to the hotel in one piece.

  My thoughts raced, trying to make sense of this, trying to find the words that would persuade Anaïs to change her mind and give me a second chance to find Beatrice without frying my brain in the process. This was the consequence of missing all the signs of manipulation. Of course I knew people were more likely to mess up when they were out of ideas and pushed up against a wall. I knew this all too well. I’d failed miserably to eat properly over the last few weeks and get the rest my body needed. Fatigue had set in.

  Sitting on the edge of the four poster bed, I took in the room. The hotel Anaïs had chosen was luxurious. Lush furnishings surrounded us and antiques gave the illusion of turning back the clock to a Victorian era. Another time, another life. The fireplace had been lit prior to our arrival and flames licked high in the hearth, providing a welcome warmth to my chilled bones.

  Was I really going through with this?

  No, I wasn’t.

  Anaïs sat beside me. “Would you like some water?”

  “I’m not staying,” I said. “Please let me talk with Orpheus. Surely we can come to some kind of an agreement?”

  She sighed. “Maybe it’s time you faced the fact your life is a lie, Ingrid.”

  I stared at the door, willing my courage to take over as I ignored her threats and braved the consequences.

  “There’s something I have to tell you,” she said. “You’re not going to like it, I’m afraid.”

  From her expression, I knew I wouldn’t.

  “Vampires are incapable of feeling love,” she said softly.

  “I don’t believe that.”

  An uncomfortable silence followed.

  My heart didn’t believe that either. After all, Jadeon loved me and had told me this on so many occasions. He’d also proven it with every action, and even now validated how much he cared by staying away. Keeping me safe. Sacrificing his happiness and mine. And I was failing him by being here and breaking the promise I’d made.

  “Jadeon used you.”

  “What?”

  Anaïs ran her hand up and down my back. “It’s not your fault. Don’t blame yourself. It’s done so smoothly. You never see it coming.”

  “What are you talking about?” I snapped.

  “You really never suspected?” she asked surprised.

  “Suspect what, Anaïs?”

  She looked incredulous. “Yet you’re so damn smart.”

  “What are you trying to tell me?”

  “Did it happen like this for you? You were lured to a meeting in a public place like a library or an art gallery? A place where your guard was down. Jadeon garnered your full attention and then seduced you off to somewhere even more glamorous. A place that ensured he’d take your breath away.”

  My gut wrenched. She’s was lying. Surely she was? No, stop talking...please...

  Anaïs nodded knowingly. “You were lured to Jadeon’s castle, I imagine?”

  I shot her a wary stare.

  “Though it could have been his luxury yacht,” she said. “Working girl’s love yachts. Castles are more practical though.”

  “Jadeon doesn’t have a yacht.”

  “Of course he does. He’s rich and lives in Cornwall, for goodness sake.”

  “He never mentioned it.”

  “I find that rather interesting, don’t you?” She flashed a look of surprise.”All that decadence is so outside your realm of experience. I imagine it’s rather intimidating at first. Soon, though, it becomes addictive. Like his money.”

  “I never cared about his money.”

  “That’s refreshing to hear.” She looked solemn. “Orpheus is no different. Well, he makes a point of getting off on watching you suffer.” Shaking her head in disbelief, she added, “I mean choosing drab women because they’re more likely to be grateful is downright taking advantage.”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “Surely you don’t believe Jadeon is exclusively seeing you?” She looked puzzled.

  My mouth went dry.

  “When was the last time you had sex with him?”

  I broke her stare, not willing to allow my thoughts to lead to the pain waiting for me on the other side of truth. We’d not made love in months. Yes, he’d pleasured me, but we’d not...

  Oh God...

  “A few months ago you were working on a case,” she said. “Girls had been murdered and dumped, one of them at Stonehenge. Alex was accused as the perpetrator. Jadeon offered to take care of you. He did, after all, want to protect his brother. Protect the underworld. Distract you as it were. It was the only way he could save Alex.”

  “My investigation—”

  “Jadeon managed to derail it.” She threw her hands up in exasperation. “The culprit was never brought to justice. Am I right?”

  “Why would Jadeon stay friends with me now?” I rose to my feet and backed away from her.

  “To keep track on what you’re doing. What you know.”

  I slammed my hand to my mouth.

  “Has Jadeon ever told you he can’t be with you because he needs to protect you?” she said. “That’s kind of the party line. Works every time.”

  I cringed, my throat tightening with tension.

  “Yeah, for some reason mortals fall for that,” she said. “Orpheus and Jadeon played you perfectly.”

  “I don’t believe it.”

  She pushed herself to her feet and came closer. “Vampires are incapable of feeling love. Hell, we don’t even feel pleasure.”

  “But Orpheus? His club, Belshazzar’s?”

  “I know, right? Truth is, the only pleasure we get is to watch someone else’s.”

  There was a knock on the door and Mirabelle entered. “Well, are we ready?” She paused halfway. “Bad time?”

  Anaïs wrapped her arm around me and hugged me against her. “Ingrid, what I’m trying to tell you is that it wasn’t your fault that you fell for it.”

  A sob caught in my throat.

  Anaïs looked back at Mirabelle. “She’s upset over Orpheus. I’ve told her what a rogue he is.” She stroked my back again. “He’s playing with you. He can’t help himself.”

  “I have to talk with Jadeon,” I said.

  Anaïs sucked in a breath. “Jadeon is even crueler than Orpheus. Isn’t he, Mirabelle?”

  “Jadeon does have a reputation for being ruthless,” Mirabelle agreed. “I wouldn’t want to cross him. Have you been intimate with him? Did he break your heart?”

  More tears fell and I swiped at them in a daze.

  “Ingrid, I know you’re hurting.” Anaïs reached out for the glass bottle Mirabelle was holding and she took it from her. “This will deaden your pain.”

  The glass bottle with its filigree silver top was delicate and inviting. Anaïs removed the stopper.

  Outside, the cry of seagulls sounded as they flew by the window. Outside, where my old life begged me to find it again.

  “You need to be seated.” Mirabelle gestured at the bed.

  I went to tell her that I wasn’t a vampire and felt Anaïs’ grip on my arm tighten.

  “Sit,” Anaïs said.

  Lowering myself onto the edge of the bed, I stared at the fluorescent blue liquid swishing in the bottle. Tinges of red spiraled through the blue like colored ribbons. There was no way I was drinking it.

  A chanting filled the r
oom.

  Mirabelle was joined by two other young, female Wiccans, and just as she’d dressed in a bodice and long full skirt so were they. Their medieval get up only added to what felt like insanity. Asking how I’d gotten here was a mute point now.

  “Behold, I give you blue illuminate,” Mirabelle said.

  If I refused to do this, Orpheus would send those tapes to Scotland Yard and my career would be over. Perhaps, just perhaps, Anaïs knew what she was doing. If I drank this, I might very well find myself enlightened and able to find Beatrice.

  “I need more time,” I said, begging her with my eyes.

  “No,” Anaïs said, “No more wasting time.”

  Anaïs lifted the bottle and rested the tip against my lips. I nudged her hand away.

  “Drink it, my dear,” Mirabelle coaxed softly. “It’ll soothe your heart.”

  “Deaden the pain,” Anaïs silently messaged me.

  But would it help me forget Jadeon’s betrayal? No, these were lies. This was Anaïs’ dreadful manipulation. Her motivation was clear.

  “You want proof?” Anaïs said firmly.

  I gave a slow, careful nod.

  “Why do you think Jadeon branded you as a Gothica? Marked you clearly as belonging to Orpheus?”

  “To protect me?” I whispered.

  “He gave you to Orpheus,” Anaïs said. “This was Jadeon’s way of proving he serves him. Just as we all serve Orpheus.”

  “No, Jadeon is Dominion,” I said. “Jadeon rules the underworld.”

  “Have you seen them together recently?” she said. “Do they appear like enemies to you?” She shook her head. “Even when the evidence is right in front of you.” She gestured to the room. “Where is Jadeon now?”

  With eyes lowered to the floor, I tried to think straight. I struggled to gather all the pieces of this distorted puzzle yet nothing added up, nothing made any sense.

  “Do this, Ingrid,” Anaïs cooed. “Or your career will be over. Your choice.”

  There was no choice. Without my work, I was nothing. It was all I had ever known. My work defined me.

  “Open,” Anaïs’ said, pressing the bottle to my mouth again.

  I had never lost Jadeon because he had never been mine to lose. Anaïs poured the liquid into my mouth. The taste of bitter apples... and something else...peppermint? That familiar sweetness of vampire blood tingled on my tongue and curled down my throat. My legs turned to jelly with the realization of what I’d done.

  This dreadful danger.

  I collapsed back onto the bed and stared up. The ceiling bore down on me. The walls closed in. There it was. That familiar daring willing me to fly too close to the flame.

  Into its very center.

  A slow deliberate chanting echoed around us...

  I was spellbound.

  Time slowed as electricity sparked between all of us. I reached out to caress the fine holographic strands of red dancing before my eyes. These were quickened by the vibrations that swarmed, drowning me, entering me. Something within recognized these hypnotic, melodic sounds and calmness descended. Celtic words were spoken softly, a familiar incantation reaching into my soul, twisting and turning and causing me to tremble.

  A whisper found me in the dark. “She’ll achieve infinite awareness.”

  Sparks of desire shot down my spine, directly to that delicate place between my thighs. Blood rushed to my groin and my sex clenched in anticipation.

  “She looks so beautiful.” A Cornish lilt came out of the quiet.

  How can it work so fast?

  But I couldn’t ask, couldn’t speak. My voice was snatched by a yearning so intense I questioned fighting it. I tried to hide my ascending bliss, this building orgasm, the curling of my toes the only clue to these secret sensations.

  Blushing wildly, I knew they were watching.

  Stillness emphasized their focus remained on me, but I was too far gone to care. I was coming hard, moaning my pleasure, stunned by these erotic spasms causing me to writhe and twist upon the bed as though taken by an invisible lover. My breathing grew shallow, ragged, and my heart readied for wherever this moment took me. Taut fingers gripped the bed sheet as my head turned, whipping my hair from side to side. My hands laved the sheet and then let go to reach out to prevent me from falling—

  Freefalling.

  A door opened and closed, but first came a rustle of skirts, along with whispers that were impossible to catch. The stillness revealed the women had gone, leaving Anaïs and I alone in the dark.

  “Anaïs,” a deep male voice broke through the silence. “Did I just see my fucking Viper parked outside?”

  I recognized that pissed off tone.

  Orpheus.

  But I was too weak to raise my head, too far gone to protest. I descended further out of my depth and sunk into the unknown.

  Into oblivion.

  CHAPTER 17

  I turned my gaze away from the needle.

  The smell of bleach, or something similar to bleach, filled my nostrils and I willed myself not to throw up. Hanging out in the morgue wasn’t one of my better ideas, but then again I wasn’t exactly rational right now, even if I pretended I was.

  “What am I testing for again?” Dr. Russell asked.

  A pinch in the crook of my left arm let me know the needle was in. I felt the pressure of the specimen bottles being switched out to draw more blood into each one. Dr. Russell placed the tubes safely on the silver tray beside him.

  “Chemicals,” I said. “A drug screen, toxicology, that kind of thing.”

  “I’m going to test your Vitamin D while I’m at it. You’re looking pale.” He removed the needle and pressed a cotton wool ball into the crux of my arm. “Want to tell me what’s going on?” He replaced the cotton ball with a Band-Aid. “Please tell me we’re not talking date rape?”

  “No. I don’t meet strange men in bars.”

  He removed his gloves and threw them in the bin. “Glad to hear it.”

  I just date vampires until my self esteem is decimated beyond recognition.

  He labeled the bottles. “Well considering I haven’t taken a blood sample from a living person in over a decade that went better than expected.”

  “Glad you told me that now.”

  “I’m sure if you were doing drugs you wouldn’t volunteer your blood to Scotland Yard’s coroner. So that leaves me to wonder. Why the hell am I testing your blood for drugs?”

  “Can we discuss this later?”

  His shoulders dropped. “Has anyone ever accused you of being insufferable?”

  “They may have hinted at it, yes.”

  He frowned down at my London Times Newspaper. “Is that today’s?”

  “Yes.” I scanned the articles, trying to see what headline he’d caught.

  “The crossword’s done.”

  “Did it on the way in.”

  “How long did it take you?”

  “I don’t know.” And then it hit me. It usually took me an hour to complete, yet I’d finished the crossword puzzle in less than twenty minutes this morning after purchasing a copy from a vender outside the tube. I’d searched for a distraction from this gut wrenching pain brought on from last night’s revelation.

  It hadn’t worked.

  My mind wandered back farther.

  I’d awoken with the mother of all headaches, feeling hungover. The cause of it found its way back to me in all its glorious dysfunction. My thoughts dragged me along until I recalled last night and the consequences of falling for Anaïs’ blackmail. She’d driven me to Cornwall in a stolen vehicle, put me through an erotic witches’ ceremony, and forced me to drink an unknown substance known as blue illuminate.

  Reckless. No change there, then.

  Nothing unusual to report. This was my customary modus operandi of chasing danger and mingling with its cohorts, otherwise known as irrationality and regret. I caressed my forehead to ease the tension.

  “You got number 21 across,” Dr. Russell said.


  “Acadian. Early French settler.”

  “Impressive.”

  I twisted my mouth, having to agree this was a little unusual, but I’d put it down to fatigue, infused with way too much coffee. Not to mention having my heart split in two by the revelation of how foolish I’d been over the last few months. Everything I knew had been a lie. I’d been apparently used and abused and had offered myself up willingly to the process. I only had myself to blame and the shock of it all was so startling it threatened to incapacitate me. Last night, I’d fallen into unconsciousness in a hotel room with Orpheus’ voice fading into the background. The next thing I remembered was waking up at home and finding a vase of red roses on my bedside table with a note card scribed with the letter J.

  After shoving them in the bin, I vowed never again to fall for the charms of the undead. See, addressing them as what they really were was actually a good start to getting over the worst mistake of my life.

  Swallowing back tears, trying to dislodge this lump in my throat, I marveled at my ability to remain stony-faced.

  “You okay?” Dr. Russell said.

  “Fine, thank you. How are things between you and Helena?”

  He looked relieved. “Much better. We drove in together.”

  “I have a feeling your bridge sessions are good for the agility of her mind.”

  Dr. Russell blinked. “We really are playing bridge, Ingrid.”

  “I know.” I tapped his arm playfully. “So, when will these be back?”

  “It usually takes a week, but I’ll see what I can do.”

  “I appreciate that, and if we could keep this on the down low.”

  He pointed to the tubes. “You’re labeled as Jane Crossword Doe.”

  “Clever.”

  “I have my moments.”

  Within the hour, I was back in my office and downing my third mug of coffee of the morning, self-examining every action to see if there was indeed any change in my ability to process details faster. Other than the crossword, nothing out of the ordinary stood out. The speed with which I read was the same, and as I rifled through my files in my in-tray nothing popped out as a new revelation.

  I found myself in some halfway land wedged between relief and disappointment.

 

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